Unmasked
by rewritetheending
Summary: "She's already invited him out for drinks and near-death experiences often tip her toward tender; the walls keeping them apart are mere cobwebs on this late October night." An alternate ending to Cops and Robbers (4x07) written for the Castle Halloween Bash 2017.


Her day had been hell, set off by a phone call from Castle and his freakishly calm observation that the New Amsterdam Bank and Trust was about to be robbed while he and Martha were trapped inside. His urgent whisper had turned her to ice, each beat of her heart only serving to fracture her from within, all of their might-have-beens lost in that first split second of fear. Her duty as a detective – and as Castle's partner – had kicked in a moment later, Kate driven by the need to rescue the hostages and salvage time. The next several hours had been chaos and quiet, resolve and remorse, most of the horror assuaged when she found Castle amid the explosion debris, and the rest of the happy ending delivered with the news that Tanya and Connor were safe as well.

With the case closed, Kate leans back in her desk chair, her adrenaline dulled to a pleasant hum. "So, Old Haunt? I'll buy you a drink."

"It's Halloween," Castle reminds her. "And I know you don't want to subject yourself to the ghouls and goblins bound to be crowding the streets tonight."

"Ugh, I forgot."

"And besides, I've resurrected an old tradition and plan to indulge in a John Woo double feature while eating copious amounts of fun-size candy bars on my couch."

She laughs, any attempt at an eye roll futile. "I would have guessed _Hocus Pocus_ or _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ , but if you're looking for something less obvious, I suppose you could make _Hard Boiled_ work."

There's a cautious pause, his head tilted as he studies her. "You wouldn't want to join me, would you?"

It's a stupid question and they both know it. She's already invited him out for drinks and near-death experiences often tip her toward tender; the walls keeping them apart are mere cobwebs on this late October night.

"Actually, I'd love to."

* * *

She opted to swing by her apartment before heading over to Castle's place, jeans and a blouse too uncomfortable for a night of lounging in his living room, so it's another hour before she makes her way down the hall toward his loft. An hour during which she found herself hoping the night is anything but platonic while also wishing for it to be just that. She wants everything to change and for it all to remain the same. Neither heart nor head have come out on top by the time she lifts her hand to announce her arrival, and her internal argument is halted only when she hears him unlock the door. It's no surprise at all that he's swinging it open almost immediately after she knocks, but when he first greets her, Kate's breath catches as painfully as it had that morning.

Halloween or not, she had not been prepared to see Castle dressed in scrubs and a surgical mask. Jackass.

"Too soon?" he asks, only the vaguest apology tucked into his laughter.

Kate shoves past him and kicks her boots into the corner, her coat tossed over the back of a chair before she spins back to face him, hands on her hips and all the anger she can muster when she isn't really angry at all. Of course it's too soon, but she might have been disappointed by anything less. He's her favorite jackass.

"Only you could rebound from hostage to prankster in a matter of hours."

"Just part of my charm," he responds with a wink, then nods down to his costume. "I'm going to change out of this now, but help yourself to some candy and get settled. The first movie is ready to go whenever we are."

She has every intention of turning toward the kitchen right away, always happy to satisfy her sweet tooth, but the sight of Castle walking toward his office keeps her attention for several seconds, his back bared as he tugs the top of his costume over his head without worrying about whether she watches him undress.

He probably hoped she would.

And she isn't sorry she did.

Shaking the image of his body from her mind, she hurries over to the countertop he'd filled with a ridiculous display of store-bought candy and more than one homemade snack. There are two small jack-o-lantern buckets set to the side, so she grabs one and stuffs it with more chocolate than she could possibly need, then scoops up a black and orange Rice Krispie Treat and pushes a corner of it into her mouth.

"Hungry?"

Kate hums in agreement, masking her surprise at his sudden appearance behind her. He's so damn close, and after a day spent separated and scared, it's far too reassuring. Warm and solid against her back, he reaches past her to grab a bucket of his own.

"Me, too," he whispers.

Without another word, they make their way to the couch and set the candy on the coffee table as the movie begins; they're silent, focused on the screen, and not far into the _The Killer_ when Castle pulls the fleece throw from behind them and drapes it across their laps. It's almost as though sharing a blanket during movie night is a regular thing they do and Kate isn't ready to remember it's not. Still scared to admit what she wants, she reminds herself that she's ended up at the loft for dinner a few times since mending things with her partner. She's started to allow the accidental brush of their fingers when Castle brings her morning coffee and has accepted the way his smiles nudge her toward a better version of herself. After a day that could have ended so differently, maybe the casual comfort of tonight doesn't have to spook her at all.

Speaking of spooky…

"Why didn't you host your annual Halloween party this year?"

He's quiet for a moment and just before she can wonder whether he's upset that she's interrupted the movie, he speaks through his hesitation. "I'm not sure there was a good enough reason for it."

"Halloween wasn't a good enough reason for a Halloween party?" she asks with a smirk, shifting in her seat so she can see him better.

"Always with the logic, Detective," he retorts, turning to mirror her position as he explains. "Most of my parties have been a chance to show off or be distracted or enhance whatever reputation I needed to sell a few more books. They were PR moves or a way to pick up a beautiful woman. Then a couple of years ago, I threw a costume party with the hope of giving you a chance to relax a little. A night off to be silly and have fun."

Kate offers a gracious grin. "And I did have fun, as much as I was loath to admit it at the time."

He returns the smile, but sighs as he continues. "Last year, I wasn't going to have a party, but Gina insisted. And you and I both know that night was awkward for a couple of reasons."

Memories of the year before haunt them equally, she thinks. Two unfulfilling relationships. Four people settling for less. Elaborate masks worn in the name of a holiday as though Kate and Castle weren't already hiding well enough on their own.

"So, you decided to aim for a solo sugar high this year?"

"Seemed like a good way to avoid anything more complicated," he agrees.

She looks down at her lap, shaking her head. "And now the complication has landed in your living room in spite of your best efforts."

"Well, I sort of owed you after you saved my life today."

Kate's eye flicker up to his, the teasing an obvious distraction, but she appreciates the effort. "We're partners. It's what we do."

"Some of us more than others, of course."

"Wait, what is that supposed to mean?" she challenges.

They find themselves spiraling into a ridiculous argument, one of a hundred silly spats they've shared since becoming partners. Castle insists he's saved her life nine times and that she's just achieved number eight; she can't believe he's kept count even as she recognizes it as exactly the kind of thing he'd tally. She listens to him tell the stories behind each heroic effort, almost forgetting her melancholic turn from a few minutes earlier.

Almost.

And Castle hasn't forgotten either.

"Hey," he says, finally quieting to slip his hand over hers. Kate flinches at the contact, but she's all too willing to tangle their fingers together, meeting him halfway even as she braces herself for whatever he's about to say. "You know you're the best kind of complicated, right?"

"There's a good kind?"

His eye roll is hilariously theatrical and it's not the first time she's been made aware of how much flair he inherited from his mother. "Of course there is, Beckett. You're like a movie people want to watch over and over, just so they can catch each tiny moment they've missed every other time. You're like a Sunday crossword that drives people a little bit crazy, but turns into a personal victory when they pencil in that final letter. You're a challenge, but worth every second I've spent by your side." He pauses, shrugging. "Including tonight, even if we're no longer watching the movie and neither one of us is sick from too much chocolate."

"Was 'sick' the goal here?" she asks on a whisper, already sure of the answer when he leans closer and uses his free hand to pull her head toward his.

"No," he murmurs back. "This was."

The first touch of their lips is a ghost, both there and not, depending on who you ask and whether they want to believe. It's the memory of what once was, months ago. A decoy in the interest of saving lives.

Or hearts maybe.

That night was cold and full of lies, and this one is so much warmer and a little too honest, but she wants him as much she did then and there's really nothing to do but make it real this time. Kate presses into the kiss and opens enough to allow him to take even more. From somewhere outside his door, a bunch of probably-costumed kids scream before tumbling into laughter; their sound serves as the perfect backdrop when Castle tugs her into his lap, everything inside her twisted into a wonderful mix of fear and fun.

Both of his hands fall to her hips, careful to hold her close without pushing her too far. As usual, he knows exactly what she needs, even as she moans into his mouth and combs her fingers through his hair, so he keeps the kiss slow and tender and lets her find her name on his tongue. It's right there, as it always has been.

Probably always will be.

And whether it's that realization or the knowledge that he could have died today or something else entirely, Kate feels a happy thump in her chest, the ache of a muscle underappreciated for too long. She also knows her heart will be kept away from him as long as the strings of guilt – of untruths – continue to tether it to every pain of her past, from the murder of her mother to the day she almost died in his arms. It's up to her to cut it free before they end up in a bed of lies.

"Castle?" she mumbles against his lips, unwilling to move too far from the kiss.

"Beckett?" he responds, chasing the vibration of her voice down the length of her neck.

Oh, this will be more difficult than she thought, his mouth devastating as it crawls across her skin. She doesn't want to have a conversation right now, would prefer to let them be carried away by whatever tides have already turned.

"I have something to tell you. It's a good news, bad news sort of thing, I think."

He pulls back then, his frown imperceptible if she hadn't memorized every line of his face long ago. "Pretty sure that would be called a 'trick and treat' tonight."

"Okay," she agrees. "Trick first."

"Basic rules of the game, yes."

Kate takes a deep breath and lets her gaze fall somewhere over his shoulder. "I really don't know what to say exactly. I mean, this really isn't a big deal except that I've stayed quiet for too long and now it has become a big deal and all of this could have been avoided if I'd just been honest before."

She starts to back away, lift herself from his lap so she doesn't have to feel the heat between them as she fumbles with her confession; Castle holds her in place, insistent that she stop running.

"Go on."

"I heard you – heard what you said to me after I was shot. I heard you say you love me."

He's quiet so long that she finally chances a look at his reaction. When she meets his eyes, the bright blue so cloudy now, he finally responds. "Telling you how I feel only became a big deal because it's been months since it happened? Staying silent about it helped it age into importance? It was an admission of love, not a fine wine."

"No, no, that's not what I meant," she groans. "But if I'd told you that I remembered everything when you first asked me in the hospital, if I hadn't been such a goddamn coward about it, then I wouldn't be ruining everything now."

"But you don't feel the same, so it was easier to pretend you hadn't heard me."

No. Why can't he just understand? Why does she have to keep talking?

"Except that I do feel the same and I don't know how to deal with that because I'm a mess and apparently therapy isn't magic so I'm not fixed yet and maybe I'll never come close but I'm trying to be better because I can't say those same words back to you until I'm a little less broken inside."

Kate dips her head to steal a kiss. It's the wrong time, of course, but she needs to make him understand. She can't tell him how much she loves him, but she can paint it on his lips until she's brave enough to read the words aloud. And he's unsteady, his emotions dangerously raw, but he takes what she can give; it's a lot, even if it didn't come so neatly packaged.

They stay wrapped up in each other for quite a while before he ends the kiss and nips along the edge of her jaw, his breath hot against her ear when he finally speaks again. "You really love me? And that's the treat?"

"If you'll have it," she confirms, turning in an attempt to catch his mouth once more.

"It's better than all the Halloween candy in the world."

* * *

A/N: Happy birthday to someone I'm very lucky to call a friend. I hope you like this little treat.


End file.
